Is Life Worth Living?
by LethalCrown
Summary: This takes place after the Avengers, with Clint and Natasha being somewhat together. They find four girls from the red room, so may contain references to past torture. Some violence, no deaths probably, injuries, may include entire team at some points. IF U DO NOT LIKE CATS, better not to read. The main characters love cats & there may be 5 or more. T, I'm paranoid
1. Chapter 1:A mission

Is life worth living?

avengers fanfiction:

Chapter 1: Children

"You have got to be kidding me," said Natasha Romanoff, standing up. "We're supposed to assassinate _children?"_

Fury didn't look startled by her outburst.

"Not necessarily, Agent Romanoff, but that may become part of the mission," Fury responded. "These children are, most probably, in with the Red Room. And that means they are threats."

"How do we know that you aren't sending us to observe and possibly kill a pair of innocent, normal children?" queried Clint, sitting next to her.

"Agent Barton, normal children are not, usually, trained in parkour, which we know from the fact that they are often seen vaulting across rooftops. Normal children's parents and guardians are not listed as 'temporarily/indefinitely in Timbuktu. And normal children can typically not fall from a four-story building without sustaining injury. Or if they do sustain injury falling off of a four story building, they usually show it rather than landing lightly on their feet and running down the street laughing." Fury stated.

"If they are connected to the Red Room, how did you locate them?" Natasha asked.

"We were looking through files in Russia and found something suspicious. A little bit of detective work and… " Fury gestured at the files in front of him "this is what we found."

Natasha picked the four files, one for each of the suspected girls, and perused the information. There really wasn't much.

**File 1**

**Name: Zilya Radova (not confirmed)**

**Hair Color: Blond (not confirmed)**

**Eye Color: Blue (not confirmed)**

**Age: 16 (not confirmed, probably inaccurate)**

**Height: 5'7"**

**Parents: Unknown (Possibly, although unlikely, in Timbuktu)**

**File 2**

**Name: Katya Radova (not confirmed)**

**Hair Color: Black (not confirmed)**

**Eye Color: Gray (not confirmed)**

**Age:15 (not confirmed, probably inaccurate)**

**Height: 5'4"**

**Parents: Unknown (Possibly, although unlikely, in Timbuktu)**

**File 3**

**Name: Zaria Radova (not confirmed)**

**Hair Color: Red (not confirmed)**

**Eye Color: Amber (not confirmed)**

**Age: 13 (not confirmed, probably inaccurate)**

**Height: 4'8"**

**Parents: Unknown (Possibly, although unlikely, in Timbuktu)**

**File 4**

**Name: Alexis Ivanova Petrova (not confirmed)**

**Hair Color: Red (not confirmed)**

**Eye Color: Green (not confirmed)**

**Age: 12 (not confirmed, probably inaccurate)**

**Height: 4'8"**

**Parents: Believed to be the daughter of Ivan Petrovich, but not confirmed. Unknown mother.**

Natasha blinked at that last name.

"You really think she is Ivan Petrovich's daughter?" Clint asked incredulously.

"We don't know," Fury responded. "But when asked her name by an undercover operative, she said her name was Alexis Ivanova Petrova, so either that was the first last name she could think of off the top of her head, or she really is."

"If that is the name she gave you, then it was either probably a planned alias, or she was telling the truth," Natasha muttered.

"Why," asked Fury.

"Russian naming is different. The middle name is a patronymic so it is the name of the father with a suffix that depends on gender," Clint responded absently, scanning the files for any missed information.

When he caught the baffled looks coming from his partner and boss, he diverted his attention from the files long enough to shrug. "At least, so says Wikipedia."

"The weird thing is, this time he's actually right," Natasha muttered, provoking a glare from Clint. "Ivanova, when used as a middle name, would mean 'daughter of Ivan' and her last name, Petrovich, would also suggest that."

"Then you realize the urgency of this," Fury stated.

"Yes, I do," Natasha shot back. "But I also am unwilling to kill four children who might possibly, although unconfirmed and probably younger, be between the ages of twelve and sixteen. The oldest certainly looks younger, and the youngest looks like she could be ten-or even younger!"

"For the last time, this is not a kill order yet! You are to observe, if they need elimination, eliminate, if they do not, bring them back here!" Fury snapped

"Why assign us to a mission if its only going to be observation?" asked Clint.

"If these are truly Red Room girls, then, trust me, we're needed," Natasha responded, standing up. "When are we leaving?" she directed at Fury.

"Three hours. Go get ready," Fury responded, a little miffed by the lack of respect shown to him, although he supposed he should be glad she was going. No one made the black widow do what she didn't want to do.

…..

As Natasha got ready in her room, she was trying to push back the flood of memories. Memories of other girls from the Red Room, young girls, all of whom had met their deaths at the hands of a younger Natasha, and a tidal wave of blood rising up in her mind. The sheer number of girls, young girls, children, who had lost their lives at her hands…

There was a knock at her door, jolting her back to reality. She opened it and Clint stepped in.

"How are you," he asked gently. He knew of her past with the Red Room, was the only one she had confided in, and knew that, although she was far too proud to admit it, she was terrified that this mission would turn her back into that same murderer of children that had taken his offer to leave that person behind forever.

"It won't be the same," he stated, looking into her eyes. "If we think they're innocent, even if we get the kill order, we can bring them back here. We'll do the same for them what I did for you three years ago, Natasha. You are not that person anymore."

She stared at him for a long moment before giving an almost imperceptible, shaky nod. She hefted her bag over her shoulder and pushed out the door with him behind her. They made their way to the waiting plane, and Natasha's stone cold mask of proud indifference would never show anyone how terrified she was to be going back to Russia. Her home. Clint was the only one who ever saw her mask slip, who ever saw that she did care. Little things were what he noticed, after all. The way she was slightly tense if their target had children, or how she would never hesitate for her customary two seconds to evaluate the odds before plunging into a battle if there were children in danger. Those small things alone were enough to prove everything people whispered behind her back wrong. That she was cold, heartless, indifferent to everything, and saw everyone as a target. Well, that last part was true for A) people who said those things behind her back and B) any of the really evil people they were asked to track down.

They settled in for the many hour flight to Russia. Clint constantly looked out the window while Natasha seemed to stare into space. Anyone else might have thought that she was completely zoned out, but he knew that she was mentally preparing for the task ahead. Whenever she went to Russia, she spent a long time beforehand mentally preparing herself. Anytime they went to Russia was extremely stressful, and she had to mentally reassure herself that the Red Room couldn't harm her anymore. More the problem was the fact that, in Russia, although she denied it, she had a harder time trusting him. She was constantly tense and on edge, and even though he was the only one she really trusted, and she trusted him a good deal (enough to share her past stories, to put her life in his hands, and enough so that she didn't shoot him when he woke her up from her nightmares, which for her meant she trusted him a ton) she tended to be more aloof and shrouded her feelings all the time, even when they were safe, with a guarded intensity that rivaled that of a mother cat protecting her kittens. Russia was _never_ fun, and usually ended with a large gunfight and Natasha having a panic attack. Oh, and nearly dying several times, but that was pretty routine.

Natasha tried to contain the panic she felt as the plane touched down. She didn't mean to shut Clint, the only person she truly trusted, out, but it was so hard, with all of the memories threatening to overwhelm her in Russia. All of the instincts that they had trained into her were near the surface here. It was generally a bad idea, and Fury tended to avoid it, but sometimes it just had to happen, and when it did… well, they completed the mission, but it was stressful and difficult.

They got off of the plane and into the waiting car. Clint slid into the driver's seat, earning a scowl from Natasha. After the first time they had come here, he had vowed never to let Natasha drive in Russia. Ever again. He wasn't exactly the world's safest driver himself, and Natasha normally drove very crazily, but in Russia, she was so tense and skittish that she broke about every traffic law in existence, ran every red light there was, and made liberal use of driveways, gardens, sidewalks, one way streets,(going the wrong way), and construction zones.

In the car, she sat very still, her stone cold expression not revealing her inner turmoil. With every breath she took to calm herself, she became more stoic. She would not let anyone interfere. No one could stop the Black Widow. She was on a mission.


	2. Chapter 2: Two of them

**So, I am posting the second chapter of this. I got a review from my sister-thanks, Acemace1507-but no one else. I would really like reviews, even if you criticize this. It is my first fanfic. I forgot a disclaimer, so here it is: I do not own the avengers, but I do own Aztec, Inca, Maya-they will come later-and all cats and the four girls. I am planning several more, and I am going to make this promise: I will update once a week if possible, and keep my updates at over 1000 words. PLEASE review.**

They were walking down the street to their hotel when Natasha froze. She looked closer at a young girl with red hair and green eyes who looked exactly like the pictures they had seen of Alexis Petrova. The girl stood on the street corner, peering anxiously into the thick crowd. Natasha nudged Clint and angled her chin in the direction of the girl. He nodded, touched her hand, and disappeared down the alleyway. They would keep in touch through ear earpieces, while she got close enough to observe and record, with him covering her back and keeping lookout from the air. She sidled closer to the girl, at the same turning on a recording device discreetly.

The girl turned, keeping a careful eye on the crowd. No one except for the Black Widow saw how tense the girl was, how, under the garments protecting her from the cold of Russia in the winter, her arms were impressively muscled for a girl who didn't look a day over ten, and yet held herself with a confidence and surety that would have been a mature look for a girl of twenty. She saw that the girl noticed every movement, her green eyes constantly scanning the area. She saw that the girl managed, while retaining her calm demeanor, to project a youthful innocence, while hiding a sadness in her eyes.

Natasha was known for not letting her emotions affect her on a mission, but she saw so much of herself in this little girl who was so obviously from the red room. She made a promise to herself then that she would offer this girl a way out, the same way she had been offered one.

First, though, they would have to observe this girl, see if she made contact with the others, and see if they could be assisted. And Natasha was going to do everything in her power to see that these children were not eliminated.

The small girl suddenly stood up straighter, and glanced down the street, to where a blond girl with eyes that looked like chips of blue ice was making her way through the crowd towards the younger girl, who suddenly ran to her.

"Ирина! Ирина! Где Заки и Zephyr? Где Катя и Заря? Как прошел твой день? Мы собираемся домой? Неужели мы пели сегодня вечером? Разве Заря взорваться что-нибудь сегодня? Она взорвать школу? Ли красная комната иметь любую дополнительную информацию о наших wherabouts? Все ли безопасно?"

(Irina! Irina! Where are Zaki and Zephyr? Where are Katya and Zaria? How was your day? Are we going home? Are we singing tonight? Did Zaria explode anything today? Did she blow up the school? Does the red room have any more information on our whereabouts? Is everyone safe?)

The blond girl-Irina, Natasha supposed, who was probably actually Zilya Radova, laughed and scooped the younger-by-four-years-if-the-inaccurate-records-were-real girl into her arms and spun her around, laughing as her blond hair spilled out behind her. Zilya murmured something to the younger one-Alexis-who giggled, and they set off down the street together.

Natasha blinked. There had been no faking in that performance whatsoever. Those girls truly cared about each other. If she had to kill them… _don't think about that now. Just think about the mission. The mission is surveillance. Watch them._

She began to follow them casually down the street. The younger one was giving a rapid account in Russian of her school day, coming off as a cheerful ten-year-old rather than a twelve year old.

But Natasha's practiced eyes didn't miss anything; not the way the elder one, while listening to Alexis's recitation and commenting at appropriate points, coming off as the caring big sister, scanned the crowd with eyes which looked bright at first glance but, after observation, looked wary and tired. She didn't miss the way the younger one tensed and moved almost imperceptibly closer to Zilya when a car drove by them on this street with enough foot traffic to blend in, but little road traffic. Little things jumped out at her, as well as the fact that Alexis had mentioned the Red Room in her rapid-fire questioning. But the way she had phrased it…

…like they were escapees from the red room…

"_Comm check," _Hawkeye's voice came clearly through her comm.

"Clear, Hawk," she responded. "See anything?"

"_Pigeons," _he responded. "_A hot dog stand, a bunch of people on the sidewalks, the two girls we are following, two brown tabby cats who actually appear to be following the girls, for some weird reason, who are also looking at me with intelligence you do not normally see from housecats, who are looking at me like dinner. They are not paying the pigeons any attention."_

"Cats following Hawkeye," Natasha said skeptically. "How would they know your code name?"

"_I don't know! But I don't like cats!"_

"Kittens are cute."

_"Yeah, but kittens are baby cats. They grow up."_

"You have wonderful powers of observation," she smiled. "No one tailing me?"

"_Nope. Other than these cats. They are creepy."_

"Do you see either of the other girls?"

"_Nope. Unless they were turned into cats. In which case they are STARING RIGHT AT ME LIKE A MEAL!"_

Natasha tried to stifle a giggle. "I have heard. Say if you spot anything suspicious. Other than, you know, the vicious, man-eating housecats."

_"You laugh,"_ he teased, "_But they may be after you next."_

Natasha looked at the children. The crowd started to thin as they turned down less populated streets. She would have to be careful to avoid detection. She was contemplating her option when the children turned down a deserted alleyway. Smoothly hurrying to the place that they had disappeared, she glanced down the alleyway and saw…

… the girls jumping onto the rooftops?

"Hawk," she said frantically into the comm,"Looks like our targets are joining you."

"_In that they use a weapon that most consider 'medieval' 'ancient' and 'outdated'?"_

"In that they are coming up the rooftops, Clint!"

"_Yeah, I'd noticed, funnily enough. It's not like, you know, I'm blind. It is sort of my job to notice that sort of stuff."_

"Where are they now?"


	3. Chapter 3:Irina thecat?

**So, another update. Thank you to all those who reviewed, it really made my day. This chapter is fairly short, and probably dragging a little, but the next chapter will be amusing, soon, and longer-and before they leave Russia, should Natasha and Clint meet... some current red room people? Still deciding. Please make your opinions known. Also, in the last chapter, I got the Russian from google translate, so sorry if it is incorrect. I only speak English and a tiny bit of Spanish, so I need to use google translate. FYI, this is post-avengers, and I am planning one, or more, sequals.**

**Disclaimer: The only characters in this story that I own are Katya, Irina, Zaria, and Alexis. The rest I do not own.**

"_Um, darting across the rooftops. They certainly are trained in parkour. I haven't seen them stumble once."_

"That doesn't really matter. I'm coming up."

"_You don't need to-"_

Natasha darted down the same alley, leaping and swinging up to the roof from the gutter. She cautiously peered around the peak of the roof, seeing the children darting ahead. Clint fell in step beside her as she carefully began to weave a quick path through the peaks of the rooftops that prevented their targets from seeing them. They soon caught up to within earshot of the pair, who were now speaking a language that neither recognized, which was actually very impressive, considering between them they spoke fifteen languages fairly fluently and could recognize and somewhat comprehend ten more. The girls suddenly looked about, turned, and raced across the rooftops to an attic with an open window, sliding through the window and disappearing from view. Cautiously Natasha and Clint exchanged a glance and made their way over to the building, stopping as they saw Zilya and Alexis exiting the front door.

"We should probably search this house before continuing to follow them" Natasha spoke first.

"Agreed," Clint replied and gestured towards the window. "After you, Widow."

Natasha leapt in the open window, followed almost immediately by Clint. They barely had time to take in the attic-bookshelves, a desk, some weapons on a table-before they saw the girl sitting at the desk. She was staring at them with her large, intelligent grey eyes, and had black hair, making her name probably Katya. For a couple minutes they just stared at each other, the girl taking in their appearance. And then she spoke, in perfectly fluent English.

"You know, there is probably some law against barging into random people's windows," she said. Her tone and face betrayed no signs of nervousness, merely looking at them with vague interest. She was very beautiful, with her shining ebony black hair and grey eyes, yet she looked a little washed out, as she was wearing…

A simple black floor length dress that looked very old fashioned. She looked like all of the color was washed out of her, and appeared much younger than her estimated age in the file.

"Who are you?" Clint asked. Always a good start.

The girl's eyes glimmered with amusement. "Seeing as you are the ones that barged into my home, do I not have rights to know who you are first?"

Clint frowned. "Well, are you Katya Radova?"

"Fine, we'll go with that," she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And are you Hawkeye and the Black Widow?"

"Yes," Natasha said simply. "How would you know?"

"I was in America a while ago," she responded quietly. "We went for the annual CFA show, and Irina showed Zaki and Zephyr in the agility section."

They exchanged a slightly confused look. At their glances she added, "The CFA stands for the Cat Fancier's Association, Zaki and Zephyr are Irina's brown classic ticked tabby cats, the agility section is where non-pedigreed and pedigreed cats compete equally for dominance in jumping through hoops, weaving through poles, and going through tunnels, and Irina is my adopted sister.'

"And you heard about us at a cat show?" Clint asked. "'Cause I hate cats."

Katya seemed amused at this. "Might not want to tell that to Irina. She might actually be forced to kill you if that happened. She loves cats. In fact, you might actually say that she is half cat. From her favored weapon-her extremely sharp fingernail and toenail extensions that are shaped like claws-to the fact that her teeth have extensions that she can extend to make them pointed. She has lightning quick reflexes, and although she cannot run at speeds of 30 mph or jump up to 6 times her body height, she can jump very high and run fast. Her hearing is extremely acute and her eyesight is excellent. She can nearly see better at night than in the day, and she notices little movements. She is flexible, the leopard who lies in wait in the night, who creeps up on her prey. She is the pedigreed Russian blue, the aristocratic cat who many forget is a predator, a little lion living in your living room. She is the speedy cheetah, the Maine coon who is the survivor, the jaguar of the jungles, the Bengal tiger, with power and ferocity. But to her kittens, she is the diligent mother, willing to die to protect them, willing to take bullet, knife, or shrapnel for them. But, in answer to your question, no. We had to reschedule our flight to America. Something about an alien invasion? That is where we heard about you."

Natasha blinked at that. "Who is Irina?"

Katya looked like she was about to get out of her chair, but then settled back down.

"Who is Irina?" she mused. "Irina. Irina Nikolaievna Spaskaya. Irina the pacifist. Irina the idealist. Irina the protector. Irina, the crazy cat lady. Irina the territorial. Irina the former Russian KGB agent with the poison fingernails who dies saving the main protagonists in the 39 clues book series. All of the above, none of the above. Take your pick. She is better known, however, as either Zilya the Reaper or Mafdet the executioner. Mafdet as her code name-Mafdet was the ancient Egyptian lynx goddess of execution-and Zilya as an alias. To her sisters, she is Irina the singer, Irina the dancer, Irina the gymnast, Irina, who is in control, in charge of her mind. Irina the selfless."

Natasha took a deep breath. Might as well get it over with. "Do you work for the Red Room?"

Katya barked out a laugh with no humor. "I knew that question was coming. To tell you the truth, I did. We all did at some point. Until we were offered a way out, a way out by the only girl ever able to shove aside the brainwashing. The girl who has never taken a life, although she grew up in the red room. The only girl to ever come out of the room, _on her own_, without being dead or on a mission. The only girl to ever go in the red room to come out, not only alive and without a speck of blood on her hands, but also as a pacifist with extreme moral platitudes. And she came back," Katya's voice fell to a whisper. "She came back to offer others the same opportunity, the ones who resisted, to a point. The bright, inquisitive, sensitive, _innocent_, Zaria, the quiet, intelligent, talented daughter of the leader, Alexis, and the useless, medical wreck of a girl who tried to flee before they killed her for being grievously injured because she refused to kill another girl. The last one was me. So, you see, I don't. Not anymore."


	4. Chapter 4: Questions and questioning

I am so sorry! I really haven't been able to update, and this chapter is really short, so I haven't really fulfilled either of my promises. In my defense, reviews always prompt me to write more faster, so... if someone reviews, I promise to update more frequently.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Natasha and Clint stared at each other, shock written all over their faces. Clearly this was far more complicated than either of them had expected. They knew one thing for certain now; they couldn't kill these children. They had to help.

"So, Katya," Clint ventured. "You could come with us to SHEILD. I am certain that we could help you." He was so not expecting the vehemence that her response held.

"Never! I would rather die!" Katya yelled. She leapt up, the hem of her long dress brushing the ground. "You want me to kill for you! And betray my sisters, bringing them in to you! And then what! What would be waiting for me! Did you think I could fight? Did you think I could leap across rooftops with the greatest of ease, run faster than average, have enhanced reactions, healing?" she paused. "Well. I do. But only thanks to Irina. So I could never repay her that debt. She allowed me the power to create my own destiny and not have it set in stone for me! That is not the sort of debt that could be repaid in a hundred years, or even a million!"

"Why do you say that?" Clint asked, curious. Katya opened and closed her mouth, considering.

"She saved my life."

"And that's enough to get you this worked up?" Clint asked.

"Does this have anything to do with the grievously wounded you mentioned earlier?" Natasha quietly spoke up, having to concentrate to prevent the memories from rising up in her mind. Again, Katya looked like she was about to respond differently, but sighed and muttered a Russian curse under her breath.

"Stupid vow of truth. I ought to well, certainly not crippled. Possibly temporarily affected by. No normal person would regain full use of their ankle after an experience like that. Not even with medical care, which Irina offered but I refused. And, you really should probably go now."

"I am sorry, but we need to take you with us," Natasha said carefully, not really wanting to bring on another bout of vehemence. "You are likely in danger from the Red Room."

Again, the humorless laugh. "You seriously think I do not know that. My ankle certainly hasn't prevented me from being perfectly capable of fighting any who have come for us. Separately we fight impressively, together we fight nearly inhumanly," she spoke in a flat tone. "Also, we have managed to evade the Red Room for upwards of one year before this day. We need no help. We trust none but each other."

Clint and Natasha exchanged a look. She was being almost too cooperative as far as her questions went, so they were naturally suspicious. Natasha began to speak. "Can we start by asking you some simple questions?" She asked, not wanting to seem a threat but wanting to get some things straightened out. Katya tersely nodded. "How old are you?"

"Eleven," Katya responded, her voice neutral. Catching their shared shocked glances, she added, "Did you automatically assume I was older or were you given faulty information. You certainly are not the first to comment on my age, believe me." Clint took a deep breath.

"Okay. I assume you are native to Russia?"

"Da," she responded flatly.

"How old were you when they took you?" Natasha questioned.

"We-I was four," she responded, obviously hiding something.

"Who else? Why would you say we?" Clint asked. Again, Katya shifted in her seat, looking nervous, when suddenly, she stilled, and her eyes jumped to something behind both master assassins. She seemed to relax, and said neutrally,

"You do not need to know that. Believe me, you do not want to know that. And I did warn you to leave when you had a chance. I offered. And you really should have."

A moment later, a cold, Russian accented voice rang out from behind them. "Turn around slowly, and I may yet spare your lives, if you can prove that you have not hurt Katya. Otherwise, I will murder you and then allow my cats to eat your innards."

So, I may or may not have them go to shield. Review with your opinion. Also, if people want to see the red room in the next few chapters for some action, review with that opinion, too. I would welcome any ideas, even though I have a pretty good idea where I want this story to go.

-LethalCrown


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I have updated very recently, I know, but I might as well update if I have time. I got another review, which did prompt me to add this chapter. If people review, I will update again tomorrow, but only if I get at least one review. **

Not really sure of anything else to do, Clint and Natasha slowly spun around, their gaze landing on three people who had evidently entered through the window while they were focusing on questioning Katya. Two of them were the ones they had followed there—Alexis and Zilya (or Irina)—along with a third child who, with her straight red hair and amber eyes must've been Zaria. Irina was pointing a gun at Natasha and glaring, while Alexis was also pointing a gun at them, but with the safety on. Zaria had two guns, one of which she was pointing at them, also with the safety on, and the other, with the safety off, she was looking into the barrel, which looked extremely dangerous.

Clint attempted to take a stab at conversation. "Hello."

Irina frowned, then turned to Katya. "Have they hurt you?"

Katya smiled. "No, Irina."

"Oh, yes, Irina, they would still be alive if they had hurt her," Zaria deadpanned. "Katya hasn't survived the Red Room, a fairly bad fire, being shot in her ankle, being tortured horrifically, your infernal poison fingernails, your freakishly intelligent brothers, what would probably count as severe depression in medical terms, and suffering from severe blood loss in a horrible winter so of course she could be overcome by a couple random people bursting through our window."

"I was never depressed," Katya protested at the same time as Irina spluttered,

"Infernal poison fingernails! Freakish brothers?! Excuse me!"

Irina shook her head. "Whatever, Zaria. And, Alexis, if you really want to appear threatening, you might want to turn the safety off."

Alexis looked horrified. "But then I might hurt someone! Or even kill someone! And that cannot happen! For example, if I shot Katya, I could kill her no matter where I hit her!"

"Glad you have such faith in my survival skills," Katya muttered.

"This doesn't matter," Irina glared at Clint and Natasha. "Leave, Now. And I will refrain from killing you in the most graphic way possible."

"Natasha blinked. "I'm sorry, but we have to take you with us. I promise we can protect you from the Red Room. In all of the years I have worked for… our agency-"

"SHEILD," Katya said, the corners of her mouth twitching up into an almost feline grin. At Clint's startled look, she added, "We are former agents of the Red Room. There are few agencies, even covert ones, which we have not hacked or know nothing about. We found it best to learn about those who wanted us dead or working for them… and we were correct."

Clint blinked. "Okay, so if you came with us, I promise you would not be killed or hunted down."

Now Irina laughed, harshly, with absolute scorn and absolutely no humor. "Oh, I know. You will try to get us to trust you by helping us so we feel indebt to you. Then, you will say you do not trust us. You will eventually get us killing for you, make us trust you, and turn us into monsters just like yourselves. We will be puppets. I swore when I rescued them, that I would never let them be taken again, and I am not about to go back on my word now. We would never go anywhere with murderers, assassins, killers-"

"Technically, I count as a killer, Irina," Katya interrupted.

"Katya, quiet. As I was saying, you will not recruit us." Irina fixed her eyes on Natasha. "Look at you. You have left the Red Room, and what do you do? You still kill. You still violate the sacred oath sworn by merely being born. You now have a choice and you still choose to kill-"

"I only kill those who deserve it!" Natasha protested, obviously trying to hide the affect the words had on her.

"Taking any life is never morally permissible. When you are in the Red Room, you have an excuse, but if you escape," she gestured to her sides and towards Katya, "If you escape, you can make your own life. You need not kill."

Zaria sighed. "Okay, well while Irina gives you the whole killing-is-a-crime-no-matter-what-they-have-done-no-I-would-not-kill-the-red-room-people-even-after-they-tormented-me-since-I-was-four lecture and the distance-weapons-are-for-cowards-who-do-not-have-the-moral-capacity-to-kill lecture, I am going to go outside to avoid the indignation that comes from someone who does use distance weapons and can kill personally. Also, Irina, have you ever thought of giving a college class in ethics? 'Cause I think that would be a lot more productive than trying to assault random SHEILD assassins and random passerby and random Red Room agents with moral information."

With that, Zaria vaulted out the window. Irina looked slightly offended, while Katya gave a low chuckle.

"She kind of stole your speeches, didn't she, Iri." Irina looked like she was about to protest when Clint cut in.

"Look, we wouldn't force you to kill for us. Or even work for us. We could find a foster family, you could all have homes. You could grow up normally."

All three girls exchanged a look at that, seeming to communicate through their intense gazes: one a soft gray, one a deep green, and one an icy blue. Finally the youngest stepped forward from her place beside Irina to go to a locked cabinet and, using a key taken from a chain around her neck, she opened it and stowed the gun that she refused to take the safety off within. Then she went to Irina and took her gun, also storing it in the cabinet. After locking the cupboard, she responded to Irina's questioning gaze, quietly saying, "If you are going to get in a moral debate with a couple of highly trained assassins, I do not want anything destructive in your hands."

After saying this, Alexis turned to Clint and Natasha. "If you are going to complete your mission, you will have to negotiate with my immobile sister, and that could take hours. Sit," she said, gesturing towards the couch along one wall. After exchanging glances, Clint and Natasha decided to humor the young girl. Satisfied that they were following her instructions, Alexis then turned to Irina.

"Now, you sit." At Irina's protesting Alexis held up a hand. "Don't argue. When is the last time you have eaten?"

"When did you become my mother?" Irina retorted.

"Thought so. Drunk any sort of liquid?"

"I am four years older than you-"

"Knew it. Slept?"

"That is not your concern-"

"Sit." Alexis stated, fixing Irina with a green glare. The older girl actually sat at the younger one's command in a chair against the wall. Alexis sat in another chair and leaned forward, intending to start this conversation before Irina could start to vent.

"Introductions first. My name is Alexis Ivanova Petrovich. My sister's name is Irina Nikolaievna Spaskaya," Here she gestured to the oldest, who was sitting in her chair, eyes half closed and looking actually relaxed, "And my other sister is Katya Radova. The one who just left is Zaria Radova. We know who you are, so no need to give us your names, whatever you would say they were at this moment."

Natasha was surprised at this turn of events. The youngest girl seemed the most willing to hear them out, and she obviously had some sway over her elder siblings. Taking advantage of this development, she spoke,

"Would you be willing to-"

"To come with you to SHEILD, yes, I know. The kestrel already asked." She stated, jerking her chin towards Clint.

"Kestrel? How dare you compare me to a mythical creature form the Harry Potter books?!" Clint exclaimed.

Alexis rolled her eyes. "You are thinking of a thestral. A kestrel is a small type of hawk, and my favorite type of falcon, so indulge me on that front."

"Did she just call me small?" Clint indignantly fumed.

"You know, once, my cats brought in a kestrel and tried to eat it brain first." Irina said, staring at the ceiling and pretending to not be paying attention to their conversation.

"And she just threatened me! With cats!" Clint exclaimed.

"Don't be silly, Hawkeye, how would a pair of housecats be able to get you?" Natasha stated.

"Actually, my cats have enough poison in their claws to keep a fully grown African Elephant asleep and paralyzed for three weeks," Irina said, still not looking at the pair of assassins. At this, Clint sputtered, looking even more offended.

Alexis leaned forward. "The point is, if you truly wanted us to go with you, you could have made a better cause. A couple things were wrong with your offer. Firstly, you said foster homes. Homes being plural. Not acceptable. We would never go anywhere if there was even the slightest chance of being separated. Secondly, we could never grow up normally. The only others who understand us, aside from each other, are either dead or cats. We would never-"

Alexis broke off. At precisely the same moment, the three girls all turned to the window. A split second later, a shrill scream shattered the air, followed by unintelligible shouts.

**Sorry for the cliffhanger, but as soon as someone reviews, you will find out what happens!**


	6. Chapter 6

So, since I had to go to bed right after I updated, here is the next chapter, at seven in the morning where I live. Thank you to the person who reviewed, but it wasn't very critical or complimentary. Also, I am thinking of doing a one shot of how exactly Irina saved the others. Review if you want a quick update and a backstory one shot.

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Immediately, the three sisters all bolted for the window, out in a second and running across the rooftops. Natasha and Clint exchanged worried glances and followed in the next second, scanning for what had caused the disturbance. A few rooftops away there was light and noise, and they dashed over only to stop to survey the scene in shock.

Roughly a dozen Red Room agents were standing on one side of the roof, facing the four girls, Zaria having evidently already engaged in combat, judging from the wild look in her eyes and her straight red hair all over the place. The whole scene seemed frozen in place, like some ridiculous tableaux. Finally, after a moment which hung in time like a glass of water about to spill, one of the Red Room agents stepped forward.

"You girls have been very naughty, but also very clever. Come back, and we will see to it that you are not punished for sneaking off. We value cleverness.'

"Not a chance!" Irina spat, quite obviously in a defensive stance, ready to jump into battle at a moment's notice. Although, something looked different…

And then it clicked in Natasha's mind; this was what Katya had spoken of. Katya had called Irina a cat, and while there was something feral and feline in the way that Irina had carried herself, Natasha had written it off as stress and fear.

Now, however, there was no mistaking her for less than feline. Her pupils had turned to slits, not circular, and the icy blue seemed to glow. When she parted her lips in a silent snarl, Natasha saw that her teeth were pointed. Her shoes had come off apparently on the mad dash across the rooftops, and from her fingernails and toenails extended translucent pieces of an unidentifiable materiel that appeared to form claws. Irina's muscles were taut, and very apparent. She looked like a coiled spring, ready to go at a twitch. She looked ethereal and otherworldly, while retaining a grace and dignity along with her posture that was so characteristic of cats.

The man chuckled, and for him, this may have been a fatal mistake. Irina moved so fast she looked like a blur. In a moment, he was on his back on the rooftop and Irina was pinning him down. The other agents drew weapons, hesitant to fire with their unit leader and orders to capture the girls alive.

The man was not a Red Room agent for nothing, however, and in a second their positions were switched and Irina was beneath him. Natasha would have expected the other girls to go to their sister's aid, but they remained stationary and exchanged looks that appeared… knowing?

In a moment it became apparent why. The man's expression went startled, then pain filled. He rolled away a second later.

It then became very clear that Irina's toe/finger nail/claws were not merely for appearances. The man's belly was all torn up, and Irina's toenail/claws were covered with blood and left red traces on the roof as she rolled to her feet.

It also became clear that the scratches would not kill him, but he was out of commission due to the fact that as she returned to a fighting stance, she lashed out immediately, darting forward in a blond blur and dealing three severe blows, one to each leg, obviously breaking them, and one to his head, knocking him out and giving him a concussion.

This entire exchange had taken place in what was probably under ten seconds. Irina was evidently quite skilled at causing injury without killing.

As soon as Irina stepped back, another few agents stepped toward her. She waited until they were within arm's length before striking.

When they were close enough, she spun, back arched, arm outstretched, in a circle. The agents who had tried to surround her cried out, obviously regretting their move, as her fingernail/claw sliced gashes in their foreheads, causing blood to run out and blind them. With only a few strikes, she knocked them away from her, sending them limply to the ground, blood staining the roof.

As if this was a signal, more Red Room agents slipped out of the shadows, forming a ring around all of them. It took only a moment for Natasha and Clint to realize that they had been surrounded as well, and that the formerly dark rooftop was now illuminated by floodlights.

And the agents attacked. None of the six caught in the middle were of the same level or weaker than any of the ones that they were surrounded by, they were much more powerful.

But there were so many…

It was a long battle that raged silently across the rooftops. Natasha and Clint had no issues with killing these people, but the children would go out of their way to refrain from killing any. But by the time the sun began to set in the sky, the only five escapees from the red room and the one who had helped one escape were in the clutches of the Red Room.

Sorry it is short! but it isn't as bad of a cliff hanger, at least!


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